Ephemeral

Secrets in bed

My stomach drops to my feet when I see a shadow over me, feeling someone standing right behind me. My heart thunders in my chest as I look back and up to see Slade towering above me. There's a hurt look in his eyes as he glances from my face to my hands that still hold the picture. He's fixated on that picture and slowly the hurt transforms to pure, undiluted rage.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he hisses out, hands curling into fists and eyes dark as sin. Shit, he looks royally pissed off. But I'm not afraid.

I scramble up, a million questions running through my head and my heart beating a mile per minute. So many memories shoot through my head, so fast it feels like the entire room is spinning and I'm caught in the tornado. Or maybe it's just me that's finally spun out of the loop, finally proved my mom right and gone bat shit crazy.

Because there's no other way this is possible. There's no fucking way.

"I asked you a question," Slade hisses out dangerously, "why the fuck were you snooping in my room? I trust you enough to let you sleep in here and you—"

"This girl," I rasp, cutting him off and holding the picture up, "how do you know her? She's pregnant here," I fight to get the words out, the back of my eyes suddenly burning. Fuck, I can't cry right now. Not when I'm so close, so fucking close to finding out the truth. "Is it yours?"

Slade doesn't answer, his lips pinched together. There's a storm in his eyes but his silence is more dangerous than any words he could say. I need him to say something, I need him to fucking answer. "Is the baby yours?" I ask again, and there's a slight hysteria in my voice.

His eyes narrow, and he steps closer to me. "What's it to you?" he bites out, hand snatching the picture out of my hand and crunching it in his fist. "Keep your goddamn nose out of my business."

I bite my lip as I watch the picture get crumpled up in his palm. My heart aches, the face of the smiling woman creasing until it disappears from view. I need my answers, and I might find them in the most unlikely of people...Slade. I have no idea how he is connected to her, out of all people, but I need to know.

"It's my business," I say hoarsely, meeting his eyes, "It's my business because—"

"Because what?" he cuts me off, glaring at me, "because we fucked once? I thought you knew I don't do strings attached Aspen, but if I wasn't clear enough before, I'll say it again—"

"Because that's my fucking sister!" I blurt, the words flying out of my mouth in anger. The audacity of him! "I could care less about you and I wasn't snooping around in the first place! I was looking for a shirt to wear since you so conveniently tore my dress off last night. The shoe box fell on my head! And I wouldn't have looked through it if I hadn't seen...if I hadn't...how in the world do you know my sister?"

My sister that I haven't seen in three years. My sister who was once so close to me there was nothing we kept from each other. My sister who ran away from home one night and never called again. My sister who I've spent the last fucking year searching endlessly for because I miss my only sibling.

Slade's eyes are wide. He jerks away like my words have stabbed him in the heart. I can literally see the blood drain from his face as he shakes his head. His mouth is moving, he's muttering something but it's too low for me to catch it.

"Slade?" I take a step forward, but he just backs away. He looks like a wild animal stuck in a cage too small. "Please, tell me," I say softly, "how did you know Annabelle?"

His eyes flit to mine as the name slips past my lips. I watch him swallow. "Annabelle?" he mutters, and then closes his eyes, shaking his head. A shallow laugh leaves him, bitter and cold. "Bitch didn't even tell me her real name."

My brows furrow. "Excuse me—"

Slade's jaw clenches and when his eyes open, they're dark, murderous. His arm lifts in the air, finger pointing out...towards the door. "Get out," he orders. I don't move. I can hear his teeth grind themselves to dust. "Get. Out!" he shouts, hands fisting like he's trying his best not to lose control and failing miserably. "Get out before I do something I regret. We both regret."

I know when to push someone. And I know when to back off. Right now, the only thing I would achieve by pushing Slade is combusting the powder keg he already is by being the fire he needs to explode. And we both know that's a lethal reaction when it comes to the two of us. So, in an action that goes against every fiber of my being, I press my lips together and nod.

"Fine," I say quietly, "I'll leave." I bend down and pick up the crumpled picture he discarded. "But I'm keeping this." His teeth bare, ready to snap out a refusal when I narrow my eyes. "Or I could continue questioning you until you crack."

His jaw locks and he nods rigidly, watching me like a hawk the whole time it takes for me to walk out of his room. As if I'd suddenly land upon another secret he's desperate to bury and it makes me wonder how many more he's hiding. I look down at the picture in my hands.

More than that, I wonder just how big of a secret the one I stumbled upon is, and how my sister plays a part in it. I glance at her pregnant stomach, a feeling of dread entering my stomach. I don't know how it's even possible.

Annabelle had been diagnosed as sterile a long time ago. I touch her face with the pad of a fingertip, before bringing the picture close to my chest. My life has been a rollercoaster ride of mysteries and secrets ever since I began looking for my sister. All I want now is for it all to be over, and for my best friend to come home.

"Annabelle," I whisper, "where on earth are you hiding?"